


Good Boy

by firstbankofchickpea



Category: Trollhunters (Cartoon)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 22:10:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11792499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firstbankofchickpea/pseuds/firstbankofchickpea
Summary: A young Bular awaits his father's return from battle.





	Good Boy

Even though he knew it was a habit his father detested, the tiny troll could not help himself. Bular pulled his thick tail up from between his legs and sucked on the end in nervous impatience. It felt like eons since his father had left camp. Bular had begged him to let him come with, but it was to no avail. He had been left behind to ‘hold down the fort’ as it were. He was still too small to fight for his father. 

Bular clutched his tail tighter with his infant sized talons. He wondered what it all looked like. The big important battle his father was fighting. His father had challenged Ortagk for control of his faction. If he succeeded, he could expand his army a thousand times over. But what if he lost… Bular bit the tip of his tail. No! His father would surely be victorious. He was Gunmar. The troll that was born of the Heartstone. The troll everyone feared and respected. The troll that was a leader of an army. The troll that was HIS father.

Both he and his father were called Gumm-gumms. That meant that they were ‘bad’ trolls. Bular mused to himself. The other trolls must not be very smart if they distanced themselves from his father. Gunmar was strong and brave. Whatever he wanted, he fought for. No creature could stand in his way. If that made his father ‘bad’, then Bular didn’t care. He couldn’t wait to grow up so he could fight alongside his father. He was impatient to show the other trolls that he was indeed his father’s son.

Dropping his tail from his mouth, Bular stood up suddenly. He had a keen sense of hearing and he could faintly make out the sound of approaching footsteps. The young troll resisted the urge to race outside. It might be an enemy, he reasoned. Treading quietly, Bular uncovered a cutlass he had secreted away. If he had to, he would defend his father’s compound. Stealthily, he peered around the outside of the hut. Bular gaped as he dropped his weapon in surprise. His father’s modest faction had now ballooned into a full blown battalion. He had won. In his excitement, Bular sprinted out of the hut. He was eager to greet his father. When he finally saw his father’s enormous horns emerge from the crowd, Bular froze in his tracks. He hadn’t returned unscathed. His right eye was gone. His father was hurt. Without warning, tears sprang to Bular’s orange eyes. He tried to force them back, but it was no use. 

Gunmar peered down at his small son in disgust. “Must you disgrace me in my moment of glory?” The words stung Bular harshly. In shame and embarrassment, he furiously wiped the tears from his eyes. He rubbed until it hurt, but he managed to stem the flow of tears. Like he practiced, Bular bowed his head and balanced himself on one knee. “Welcome back, father.” Gunmar’s sneer became a wide toothy grin. “Good boy.”


End file.
